


Weddings

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Ladies Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-22
Updated: 2006-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Hermione loves weddings





	Weddings

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Hermione loved weddings.

It was one of those secret things she’d never actually admit to anyone, but it was true. Most people looked at her and usually saw a bookish swot who wouldn’t know romance if it was an actual bone in her body, and she did nothing to dispel this image they all had of her. She rolled her eyes when bouquets were discussed, tsked when seating arrangements were planned, muttered to herself when menus were decided, but always accepted offers to be part of the wedding party graciously. In the five years since Voldemort’s defeat and leaving Hogwarts behind, she had been a bridesmaid no less than eight times.

That was eight different robes of varying colors, designs, and not a single one able to be reused. Tonight’s wedding was special, however. In fact, if anyone had bothered to pay attention, her true feelings regarding weddings would have been visible. She helped organize the ceremony, found the most romantic location they could afford, helped find the best invitations, menu, and flowers. After all, it wasn’t every day your first boyfriend, who happened to also be your best friend, got married.

Millicent was a beautiful bride, her dress cut to flatter her curvaceous figure, and her happiness evident every time she looked at Ron, who hadn’t stopped smiling since the ceremony began, his nervous evident when he fumbled with rings and words of vows but his smile never wavering. He’d never looked at her like that nor she him. Their relationship had not lasted long, but they had parted on friendly terms and could now look back and laugh at what a mistake it had been to even try.

They were just too different in the end. While she loved him and there had always seemed to be a bit of sexual tension between them, the actuality had been a far cry from how she’d imagined. They wanted different things from a relationship, needed different things. It had never really felt right, more like snogging her brother really, and the sex, when that had finally happened, had confirmed something she’d suspected since fourth year. She preferred girls to boys.

Her sexual preference wasn’t a secret by any means, hadn’t been since she’d moved in with another woman last year and bluntly told her friends she liked women as well as men. Those few people closest to her knew, and she could care less about the others. It wasn’t really discussed by those outside her inner circle because most people didn’t seem to see her as being _sexual_. She was just Hermione, the demanding Gryffindor who had caught everyone breaking rules or pushed them into actually studying for their NEWTs. Neville called her ‘everyone’s bossy big sister’, which she assumed was a compliment, but sometimes it was difficult to tell with Neville. Ever since he and Harry had become involved, a relationship that had surprised most but her, he’d become a bit of a snarky prat at times, Harry’s influence most likely.

“Well, well, well. I never would have guessed that the Gryffindor Bitch was secretly a romantic. Are those tears I see, Granger?”

_Speaking of snarky prats_. Turning her head, Hermione arched a brow and drawled, “You know, Parkinson, we left Hogwarts years ago. It’s rather quite pathetic when adults refuse to leave school-time prejudices behind. I thought you were far too witty to rely on something as common as Gryffindor Bitch.”

“Well, I considered Ice Princess as that’s a particular favorite but, alas, I’ve had a bit too much champagne so my head is just slightly fuzzy,” Pansy smirked, bringing up the insult she’d coined during their last year at Hogwarts.

Hermione brought her glass to her lips to keep from laughing, not wanting to encourage the pretty brunette. Giving her a slow perusal, she innocently reminded, “I’d think you would know firsthand how inadequate _that_ particular title is, Parkinson.”

“Yes, well, I was taught that a lady never brings up such private matters when insulting former enemies,” Pansy said primly, hazel eyes flashing with amusement as she discreetly looked around before moving to sit on the stair with Hermione.

“Ah, well then, you’ve just nullified the rule for yourself as you are far from a lady,” Hermione said sweetly before taking a drink of the bubbly champagne.

“I do believe I should resent that slur upon my person,” Pansy mused idly, one delicate hand playing with the hem of Hermione’s bright orange bridesmaid robe. “However, seeing as it was made by someone wearing these atrocious robes, I can’t bring myself to feel insulted.”

“Coming from someone wearing the exact same hideous robes, that comment loses its sting.” Hermione brushed the back of her hand against the collar of Pansy’s bridesmaid robe, deliberately letting her fingers trace the bare skin visible from the low cut.

“Perhaps you should remove my robes then,” Pansy suggested with an innocent smile, her hand drifting up Hermione’s leg, disappearing beneath the soft material until her graceful fingers discovered the fact that Hermione was not wearing knickers. Her eyes widened, her tongue instantly running along her bottom lip, and her pale skin began to flush. Lowering her voice, she hissed, “Granger, you’re not wearing knickers!”

“Really?” Hermione batted her eyelashes as she shifted on the stair, biting back a moan as the position allowed Pansy better access to her. “I could have sworn I put them on this morning.”

“You wicked little girl,” she purred as her fingers lazily brushed against damp heat. “Whatever will I do with you?”

“I’m sure we can think of something.“ Hermione leaned forward, dragging Pansy’s bottom lip into her mouth, sucking and nibbling as her hand eased into Pansy’s robe. Caressing one plump breast, she moved closer to the petite witch, her tongue sliding inside at the same time Pansy’s finger slipped inside her. The sound of a throat clearing finally pulled her away from her lover.

“Cor, Hermione. If you two are going to shag at my wedding, you could have at least let me know so I could watch,” Ron whined, a grin on his lips as he watched them separate quickly. “You know how bloody hot it is to see you two going at it like that? Blimey, wish I could just sit and watch but Millicent would have me balls for sure.”

“It was my impression that she already had them, Weasley,” Pansy quipped, giving him a wicked smile as she kept moving her finger.

Hermione wanted to push her hand back but it felt rather good and it wasn’t as if Ron hadn’t caught them shagging that one time years ago at Hannah’s wedding. He’d actually been the first one to know about her tumultuous relationship with Pansy Parkinson, of all people. Now it was common knowledge amongst their friends and often a topic of ‘how did _that_ happen’ and ‘they don’t make sense’, which was actually quite amusing to both of them. Because, to them, they made perfect sense.

“God, Hermione. I don’t know how you can put up with this _Slytherin_ ,” Ron teased before leaning over and giving her a kiss. “When you finish up with whatever it is you’re doing beneath those gorgeous robes, come along into the other room. We’re about to make toasts, which means more alcohol, and I think Millie mentioned dancing.”

Hermione laughed at his horrified expression when he mentioned dancing, ruffling his hair as he leered down at Pansy’s arm, which was hidden beneath her robes. “God, you men are all pervy wankers,” she muttered, giving Pansy a ‘keep touching right there, love’ look.

“Nah, we just like to appreciate beauty,” he said smugly before laughing. “All right. You got me. All men are pervy wankers, Hermione. ‘s how we keep our wrists in good shape. ‘sides, you two are the ones practically shagging on the stairs during my wedding. I’ve earned a leer. Just don’t tell Millie, yeah?”

“Don’t tell me what?” an amused voice spoke from behind him. Millicent winked at Hermione and nodded at Pansy before scowling at Ron. “You lecherous _man_! Leaving me in a room full of people I don’t even like to come out here and ogle your best friend and my best friend, who really ought to learn to do such things in a dark cloakroom, say the one down the hall behind the loo, if they really want to enjoy the full experience.”

“I told you ages ago that men were not worth the effort, love,” Pansy reminded Millicent with a smirk, brushing her thumb against Hermione intimately.

“God yes,” Hermione hissed softly, burying her face against Pansy’s shoulder as she rode the waves of pleasure causing her body to tremble and shake.

“We should go dance,” Ron stammered, staring at the ceiling or his new wife.

“You’re so adorable, Weasley.” Pansy grinned when she saw his bright red face, sharing an amused look with Millicent. “We’ll be in for a dance in a moment, as soon as Granger stops shuddering and squeezing my fingers.”

“Evil Slytherin,” Ron groaned, giving her a petulant look.

“Hey now,” Millicent slapped the back of his head. “I’m a Slytherin.”

They walked back into the party bickering good-naturedly about their former Houses, leaving Pansy and Hermione on the stairs.

“He’s right. You _are_ evil,” Hermione murmured softly before kissing Pansy’s neck.

“I didn’t see you stopping me, Granger,” Pansy reminded with a smug smile. “You know it excites you to be watched so quit attempting to play the good little Gryffindor.”

“I never claimed to be good,” Hermione purred as she pushed Pansy’s hand from her robes, kissing her thoroughly before standing up. “Come along, Parkinson. I do believe I’d like to take a look at that cloakroom.”

Pansy moaned softly but quickly followed, smirking when she saw Weasley number 2 watching them with a wicked smile. Arching a brow, she inclined her head, inviting him to join them. She knew Hermione rather fancied Dragon Boy, after all, and it was always nice having a bit of cock to share with her lover. He nodded once and she quickly began planning her surprise for Hermione, getting more wet as she imagined watching her girl get shagged rotten by the muscular redhead while her face was buried between Pansy’s legs. They’d start in the cloakroom then go back to their flat, she decided, having a feeling the sexy redhead who had been watching her girl for years would definitely be up for more than a one off in the cloakroom. Catching Hermione’s hand, she smiled when their eyes met. “I love weddings.”

The End


End file.
